“Showing Up” (2023) is about Lizzy (Michelle Williams), a ceramics sculptor and administrative assistant at an art college, who is trying to juggle quotidian concerns with preparing for an exhibit. Meanwhile her friend/landlord, Jo Tran (Hong Chau), seems to be killing it effortlessly while preparing for two exhibits. This film is director Kelly Reichardt’s fourth film collaboration with Williams.
The camera feels like an additional character, who like the on-screen artists, is experimenting, adjusting the lens, and trying to find its vision instead of only showing a polished, finished product. Reichardt’s composition and camera movement are fantastic. The dynamic panning then abrupt stop was a terrific silent character study of Lizzy and Jo’s artistic styles. My favorite movement may be the camera panning, stopping at an exterior building door then moving diagonally to a window before adjusting the frame to look inside before cutting to show what the camera couldn’t: the assembly of an exhibit. It is reminiscent of a detective trying to catch a cheating spouse and the limitation of probing further without the observer attracting the subject’s attention. The framing of Jo’s studio staircase and living room, the panning in the studio to show Chekhov’s pigeons congregating outside a partially open garage door or focusing on the bathroom mirror were counterintuitive ways to prioritize the animal characters. I love Reichardt’s reliance on diegetic sounds over a soundtrack. The soundtrack starts late in the film after Lizzy contemplates a setback with one of her pieces.
“Showing Up” feels like a mumblecore odd couple story and is a keen slice of life in the lives of two artists with contrasting styles. Reichardt spends more time with Lizzy than Jo, but also shows other artists at work. The movie does not make fun of the artist characters but is as earnest as they are. The film is about people’s process and has an underlying cautionary moral to not judge people based on how we perceive them. Even though the film is marketed as a comedy, I would not classify it as such though there are humorous moments, and the cheese bit during the denouement amused me, especially since I am on team cheese for dinner or cheese as leftovers. I loved the film for being unpredictable and character driven.
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I read Lizzy as autistic and not masking. She does not smile, talks to animals more than people, is not good at social situations, has a strong sense of right or wrong, which can make her seem miserable and exacting, chooses to be alone and can be blunt. Jo seems to be a bit of a childlike character, effervescent, playful, improvisational and takes pleasure in the process. She can easily switch to social mode and is at ease in social gatherings, hooks up, has friends, which probably makes her better at self-promotion. Her art also requires help from others during installation. Reichardt does not show how Jo conceives her creations but does for Lizzy. I found it interesting that even though Jo seems easier and breezier, she has more control over every stage of her work whereas Lizzy has chosen a medium that is reliant on someone else, Eric (Andre Benjamin, aka Andre 3000), the kiln operator.
The two also differ in the way that they live their daily lives. Jo cares but appears to put her work first whereas Lizzy initially seems indifferent or callous, but as “Showing Up” unfolds, Jo prioritizes her exhibition over Lizzy’s serious tenant complaint and a wounded pigeon. In contrast, Lizzy is concerned for the few living beings that cross her path: Ricky the Cat, later the pigeon, her dad, Bill (Judd Hirsch), another ceramics artist, and her brother, Sean (John Magaro). I made it a competition and asked myself if Lizzy had more staying power than Jo in terms of sustained, serious care versus flitting along and caring, but out of sight, out of mind. I related to Lizzy’s aggravation over Jo’s communication style when responding to the hot water requests. She appears more concerned with a tire swing and to be brushing off Lizzy. So Jo may have a correct sense of priorities by putting herself first, not worrying about what is not in her control and finding time to enjoy herself while Lizzy may be subconsciously using others to distract her from working, being aggrieved about the implications of the unspoken (same). Also Lizzy’s concerns for others lie in stark contrast to their lack of curiosity about her, and perhaps Lizzy is modeling how she wants to be treated.
Reichardt sympathizes with Lizzy’s subjective aggrievements, which is why she waits until the denouement to reveal that she is an unreliable narrator, but in an understandable way. Reichardt contrasts the absence of praise from her mom/boss, Jean (Maryann Plunkett), and Ira (James Le Gros), a coworker whom Reichardt never shows speaking to Lizzy, by showing them rush to cheer Jo on. When Lizzy mentions her show to her mom, she is more focused on work and reserves her adulation for Sean, whom she describes as a “genius.” Reichardt shows Sean through Lizzy’s eyes, and I wondered if he was schizophrenic or had some other diagnosable mental health issue. It is not until the denouement that he shines when he intuits what the bird wants unlike Jo or Lizzy. I’m uncertain if Reichardt was trying to convey that a kiln screwup could be associated with Eric hooking up with Jo after the showing. Lizzy thinks that Jo has it all and references that Jo’s brother and father helped her buy and renovate Jo’s property so she can rent it out and just focus on art, but Lizzy’s family, not Jo’s, goes to her exhibit, even Sean and his friend. From Jo’s (unspoken) perspective, Lizzy can be lucky for having a family that understands Lizzy’s work. It is not until close to the end that Reichardt reveals that Jo has been working on the hot water problem, but not communicating it. Jo is right to call out Lizzy for all the phone calls, but I felt ambiguous about her saying that the rent was low. It is a fact, but also can be a threat. Marlene (Heather Lawless) admires Lizzy’s work and notes that it is early in Lizzy’s career so Lizzy may not be at the same place as Jo and comparing herself to Jo is unhelpful and unwarranted. Lizzy keeps Marlene’s praise at the edges instead of focusing on it and never reciprocates interest in pursuing a professional, including the introduction of her New York gallery director. Lizzy has legitimate concerns but lacks proportional perspective to the positive parts of her life.
Despite their differences, Lizzy and Jo are friends. When Jo does not invite Lizzy to her party, I was concerned, but Jo seems to understand how Lizzie prefers to socialize. They appreciate each other’s work and express admiration over it. Also Jo is the subject of one of Lizzie’s sculptures, which shows that despite seething over the lack of hot water, Lizzie compartmentalizes aspects of their relationship. The final scene suggests that they forgot that they were in the middle of an opening and allowed themselves to be swept away with looking up at the treetops and electric lines, probably headed home to make their next creation. It is a happy ending, away from the hype, a kind of purity to their friendship.
I have zero idea whether Reichardt intended to imply that Lizzy’s envy could be rooted in implicit, unconscious bias. It reminded me of TikTok creator @teachthemkindness’ January 17, 2023’s post about internalized racism. Even when she recognized that women of color deserved to be the star, not supporting characters, she felt salty about it. Even if Reichardt was not aiming for it, it could be an interesting cinematic example of “suppression model of prejudice” where bias emerges in unexpected ways despite. There is one scene which could be argued as a microaggression, which the speaker did not intend, but the listener could interpret it as such. It was a funny scene at Lizzie’s opening exhibit. Bill remarks near Lauren (Eudora Peterson), the gallery co-owner/worker (?), who is a black woman, “It [the gallery] may not look like much, but they do some really great things in here.” She does not react, but her unmoving face in a convivial environment conveys her displeasure. At least, it is a jab at her place of business, but as a black woman, my reading of that scene would have been just one of a series of dismissive, condescending moments in a day that must be ignored.
Because I am a nerd, I decided to do some research on the artists responsible for Lizzy and Jo’s work. Cynthia Lahti, an alum of Oregon College of Art and Craft, which was one of the locations where “Showing Up” was shot, made Lizzy’s ceramic sculptures. I did not devote much thought to the actual artwork that I saw though I think that my editor’s reference to Degas on Lahti’s work is spot on. Both artists were born in the sixties, which means that they are Reichardt’s contemporaries. Their art would not be the product of someone like Lizzie or Jo, born and raised in other eras with different influences. We all drink from the same stream, but that stream flows.
